


An Assassin Walks into a Cafe

by IWP_chan



Series: Away from Here, Nasty Father [67]
Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!, Persona 5
Genre: Background Relationships, Gen, M/M, Pre-Relationship, also rip akechi im sorry kiddo, for the reborn/sojiro, for the shuake, knowledge of khr not needed to read, reborn and his disguise skills, rip futaba you'll be remembered fondly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-24
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2019-08-28 16:50:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16727214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IWP_chan/pseuds/IWP_chan
Summary: Goro meets another Leblanc regular.





	An Assassin Walks into a Cafe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Seito](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seito/gifts).



Summary: Goro meets another Leblanc regular.

_Note: Wanted to write some more Reborn/Sojiro, ended up writing more Reborn in Leblanc Shenanigans instead… :’D_

**Warnings: Reborn’s Disguise Skills, Author Can’t Believe She Almost Killed Futaba, Attraction Factor Of Leblanc’s Baristas, Goro I’m Sorry I Swear I Love You.**

**Disclaimer:** Don’t own P5 or KHR.

.

One thing Goro hated the most about his job in the police force was how busy it kept him. Sure, he didn’t mind that before, when he didn’t have anything or anyone worth spending his free time on, or with, but now that he did have people he cared about in his life, he lamented the lack of free time he had.

So the fact that he got a day off in early March was a gift from the heavens, and he used that opportunity to head to Leblanc in the afternoon. Not too early to be considered suspiciously needy, and not too late that he wasn’t left with enough time to stay there before the cafe closed.

And, indeed, he was planning to spend the rest of the day until closing time at the cafe.

His lips stretched into half an excited smile, or as excited as he could let slip through his public mask while he was out in broad daylight, and he stepped in front of Leblanc’s door. Pushing it open, he walked in, and was greeted with a strange sight.

Sitting at the counter was a tall woman who looked somewhere between her late twenties to early thirties, with messy black hair that tumbled down her back, curiously curly sideburns, sharp, intense, dark eyes, and a sharp jaw. She wore a formal suit, long legs crossed at the knee, slightly stretching the fabric of her skirt.

Her elegant, long fingers grasped the handle of the coffee cup that was placed in front of her at the counter, and raised the cup to her red-painted lips, taking a careful sip.

Akira, standing behind the counter, and Futaba, seated in booth at the back, both had their eyes glued to the woman.

The woman placed her cup back on the counter, a faint clink sounding as it was stationed in the middle of its saucer. The woman then looked directly at Akira, and launched into a brutal critic of the coffee.

Futaba ducked her head and smothered a snicker into the palm of her hand, and Goro took in the sight in front of him in a daze, trying to figure out how he should function in this situation.

After the woman’s scathing lecture ended, she tilted her head to the side to regard him carefully, as if measuring him to some unknown standard. Goro reflexively straightened up, and the woman’s lips tilted into a mocking smile.

“And you can’t even welcome your customer when he walks in?” The woman shot back at Akira, who snapped out of his focused stare on the coffee cup to whip his head around to the entrance.

“Ah!” He smiled slightly, an embarrassed blush staining his cheeks, “Goro, sorry for not saying hi earlier. Welcome.”

At the sight of the smile coupled with the blush, it felt like the weird experience Goro had witnessed the moment he stepped into the cafe didn’t happen.

“It’s fine.” Goro walked to the counter to sit at his usual chair.

“What would you like to have?”

“The usual.” Goro suppressed a smitten sigh when Akira’s smile widened a bit and he nodded.

“It will be just a moment.”

“Chaos,” The woman said, disturbingly close to his ear (and was that a greeting? Chaos? Who would even greet people like that?), and Goro suppressed a flinch when he realized his muscle memory taking him to his usual seat coupled with his distractedness over Akira meant he didn’t notice that his current seat put him right next to the mysterious woman.

“Oh, hello.” Goro smiled charmingly, “My apologies, I hope I didn’t come across as ignoring you, I did not mean to offend you.”

Akira returned with Goro’s coffee, placing it in front of him, “Here you go,” He said, smiling lightly before he turned to frown suspiciously at the woman.

“You must be Akechi Goro,” The woman said, “The guy my son has been mooning over.”

Eh?

Futaba burst into cackles.

Goro smiled awkwardly, “Pardon?”

The woman grinned sharply, sending a jolt of fear down Goro’s spine, “My name is Reboko. I am Akira’s mother.” She declared, her eyes glinting dangerously.

Akira dropped his face into his palms and groaned.

“Oh?” Goro wrapped his hands around his cup of coffee, using the heat emanating from it to soothe his nerves, “Well, I can’t deny that I can definitely see the resemblance.”

The woman, Reboko, hummed in satisfaction and, for all intents and purposes, seemed content to switch her attention from Goro to Akira, “Get me another cup, a proper cup, this time.” She ordered, and Akira exhaled as he raised his head to nod.

“Yeah, sure, right. Okay.”

Reboko clicked her tongue, “Don’t take that tone with me, young man!”

Futaba’s cackles increased in volume.

To distract himself, Goro raised his cup of coffee to his lips to take a long sip despite how hot the beverage was.

Reboko chose that moment to lean towards him and mock-whisper, “At least his feelings I reciprocated, hmm?” She hummed, lips stretching into a terrifying smile, “There’s something special about Leblanc’s baristas that makes them especially attractive for assassins.”

Goro spat his coffee out, hacking and coughing as some of it went down the wrong pipe.

In her booth, Futaba was slapping the table with her hands as she shook in a fit of silent laughter.

(That probably wasn’t good for her health…)

Akira leaped back into his previous place behind the counter in front of Goro, reaching towards him with napkins and frantic worry.

And as if it couldn’t get any worse, the cafe’s door chose that moment to ring, signaling a new arrival.

There was a sigh. A familiar sigh.

It was Sojiro.

“Reborn, what did you do this time?” Sojiro asked, faintly exasperated.

Reboko (Reborn?!) fluttered her (his?) eyelashes at Sojiro and pouted, “What makes you think I did anything?”

“Reborn?!” Goro wheezed as soon as he could manage to get a sound that wasn’t choking or coughing out, “As in, _the World’s Greatest Hitman Reborn?_ ”

“Yes, baby assassin,” Reborn (!) said, tone condescending.

Futaba slapped her hands on the table harder.

_Oh, shit_ , Goro thought faintly, Akira was Reborn’s kid.

.

End

I was so lost about what to title this fic I almost picked lyrics from Last Surprise :’D


End file.
